


your thighs are the closet to narnia

by an_idle_teen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Fluff, Insecure Louis, Insecurity, M/M, Smut, mentions of subspace, not even sorry, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 23:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_idle_teen/pseuds/an_idle_teen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dear louis,<br/>i really wanna fuck your thighs.<br/>love, harry</p><p> </p><p>((aka the one where louis hates his thighs but harry loves them. a lot.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	your thighs are the closet to narnia

**Author's Note:**

> so, apparently I write smut now??? this is a thing I now do??
> 
> title: castle by the legend aka macklemore
> 
>  
> 
> edit: guys this has been translated in polish!! link here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4572063 (i'm still not sure how to link things)
> 
> another edit: it's been translated in russian!   
> https://ficbook.net/readfic/3574108 :)

“Fucking hell, Haz. I've got nothing to wear!” Louis moans, voice lost in the huge closet he's currently looking through (horridly unfunny pun intended.)

Harry simply shakes his head at his boyfriend and laughs, because “Louis, babe, you buy a new outfit at least twice a week, what the hell are you talking about?”

Louis doesn't respond, still grumbling to himself as he sorts through all of his jeans. He already has his top picked out - a creamy white colored jumper that Harry is almost positive Louis stole from his side of the closet because it's massive on his tiny frame (but Harry doesn't say anything because it's no secret that he loves when Louis steals his clothes.)

After about five more minutes of Louis sorting through bottoms, Harry starts to become a bit impatient. He's been dressed and waiting for Louis to finish up for quite a while now, and they're going to be late. “Babe, we have to meet up with the lads soon, or they'll leave without us and we'll be late for the interview!” Harry groans, tapping his heeled foot on the hardwood floor of their bedroom.

“Fine! Whatever,” Louis snaps, quickly grabbing a pair of khaki skinny jeans and hastily putting them on over his pants, stumbling a little as they get caught on his vans. (Harry may or may not feel a small pang of disappointment as those marvelous tan thighs get covered up.) He looks in the full length mirror, and frowns a little. “Are you fucking happy?”

“Um, I guess,” Harry says meekly, feeling like shit for rushing Louis when he _knows_ that his boyfriend likes to take his time getting ready, and he _knows_ that Louis needs to pick out something that he actually likes, otherwise he'll be uncomfortable all day. “Sorry babe...”

“It's fine, I get it,” Louis sighs, waving a delicate hand in the air. “Now lets go, we don't want to be late,” he grins, before grabbing Harry's hand and leading the taller lad out the front door.

~

Harry was (unfortunately) right about Louis being uncomfortable, and he feels even worse than he did this morning. All throughout the interview Louis has been shifting his legs and rubbing his thighs and playing with his sleeves (which he had to roll up because they were too long and god Harry shouldn't find that so adorable.)

It makes Harry's heart hurt, knowing that Louis isn't even a tiny bit confident. He's especially self conscious about his thighs, always complaining that they're too thick and too womanly - which is fucking crazy because Harry loves Louis' thighs, and he loves how much of a man his boyfriend is. He just needs to find a way to prove it.

He's unfocused for the rest of the interview, too caught up in his thoughts of Louis' (strong, firm, tan) thighs.

When Harry finally comes up with a solution, his already too tight jeans start to tighten even more with arousal from the idea, and he's never been more glad or relieved to end an interview. He can't wait to get back to the flat and show Louis just how incredible his thighs are.

~

“Haz, are you alright? You were really off during the whole interview,” Louis comments as they walk through the front door, and Harry almost snorts, before gently grabbing Louis' wrist and leading him to the bedroom. Louis follows without question, always so trusting of his boyfriend.

“I don't think I was the only one who was off, babe,” he replies, letting go of Louis' wrist and gesturing towards their giant bed. Louis takes the hint and plops himself down. “You didn't seem too focused either,” he continues, thinking back to the way Louis kept fidgeting.

Louis doesn't reply, only looks down at the duvet with sudden interest, and Harry decides that it's finally time to put his plan into action. He starts to strip, taking off his shirt first, and can't stop the smug grin that appears on his face as he watches Louis' eyes light up with interest as he looks up from his lap.

As fun as stripping for Louis is, Harry quickly loses patience, and gets his jeans and pants off with one harsh tug, tossing them to the other side of the bedroom. He glances back at Louis, and his cock gets even harder at what he sees.

Louis has a hand on himself, rubbing at his dick slowly through his bottoms as he watches Harry. His jumper has already been pulled off (and shit Harry missed it), and his eyes are dark with lust. It's really fucking sexy. When he notices Harry's gaze, he whines out a “Haz, babe, want you to fuck me” and Harry would love to give into temptation and fuck his boyfriend straight into the mattress, but.

He has to follow through with his idea from earlier, he can't just give up now because Louis is on their bed practically begging for it. So he shakes his head, and almost laughs at the indignant “why not!” from Louis that follows.

“Calm down, babe. You'll still get fucked, just,” he pauses, unsure of how to tell Louis what he wants without sounding crazy (or creepy.) They've never actually talked about this before, and Harry's not sure if thigh fucking is something couples actually do.

“Just what?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. He's not too sure he likes where this is going - how is he supposed to get fucked without having Harry's cock up his arse? (But if it involves both boys naked and doing dirty things on the bed then he's not really going to complain - well, not much, anyway.)

“Um... I'd like to, er,” Harry hesitates again, still unsure of how to phrase this. “I want to fuck your thighs.”

Well. That should do the trick, Harry thinks.

“Excuse me?” Louis isn't looking Harry in the eyes, now, and that's sort of worrying. Louis is many things, but shy is not one of them.

“Please, babe? I'd make it so good for you, I swear,” Harry promises, walking over to the bed and placing his hand on one of Louis' soft (but still firm, how even) thighs. “I would never ask you to do something that I didn't think you'd enjoy.”

Louis laughs, then, a short little self deprecating sound that makes Harry's heart ache. “I know _I_ would enjoy it babe, but would you? God, my thighs are so...”

Harry waits for Louis to finish his sentence, but when he doesn't he says “So what? So perfect, sexy, firm, delicious?”

“Stop it! You're insane,” Louis giggles (fuck fuck fuck), as if Harry is just messing around, even though he clearly isn't.

“I'm not joking, Louis... I really, really love your thighs,” Harry says, gently grabbing at Louis' jaw so that he has to maintain eye contact. Harry doesn't want Louis to have any doubts about this.

“Okay...”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah, Harry.”

~

Once Louis has agreed to let Harry fuck his thighs (holy shit), Harry gently pushes down on his toned chest, getting him to lay down. He already has a bottle of lube put out on their night stand ("just in case!" he defends himself, catching Louis' little snort), and he grabs it with shaking hands. He cannot believe Louis trusts him so much. It's sort of amazing, really. 

"I'll make you feel so good," Harry promises, eyes dark as Louis spreads his thighs slightly apart. Louis moans a little at Harry's comment, nodding his head as if in a daze. He wants this just as much as Harry does, it seems. 

Harry murmurs soft words of encouragement as he slicks up Louis' thighs with the lube. He takes his time, rubbing gently up and down Louis' thighs, sometimes leaning in and nipping at them a bit. Louis' breath gets heavier and heavier as Harry lubes him up, and eventually he grabs at Harry's wrist with a tiny hand, groaning out a "stop."

Harry instantly does as told, moving his hands away with concern. "You okay, babe? Did I hurt you?" 

Louis nods, looking a little sheepish. "No! No... just. Fucking get in there, already," he pleads, eyes wide and dark with lust. He cannot wait a moment longer to feel Harry's cock pushing in and out between his thighs (no matter how gross and womanly they may be.)

Harry strokes his cock (slowly, he's already worked up enough), and closes Louis' open legs. "Squeeze your legs tight for me baby, okay? Can you do that for me, can you be my good boy?" 

Louis does as told, moaning a bit at Harry's words. "Fuck, I can be your good boy. P-promise," he manages to stutter out. 

Harry gasps a bit (though he'll deny it later on), as he guides his cock towards the little sliver of space Louis' golden thighs are offering. He pauses, trying to think straight enough to thank whatever gods made this possible. "Shit, Lou. Fuck." 

"Does it, um, feel okay?" Louis asks gently a few moments later, eyes closed from the feeling of Harry's hard cock in between his legs. He squeezes his thighs even tighter, wanting to make his boyfriend feel amazing. 

"Oh my god. Louis," Harry groans as Louis tightens his thighs around his dick. He thrusts up, hips stuttering a bit at the feeling. "You feel like fucking heaven. Your thighs are fucking brilliant. I may want to do this all the time," he moans. 

Louis wraps a shaking hand around his unbearably hard cock, trying to feel some relief. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room are the mixed gasps and moans of both boys, and the bed creaking as Harry starts to fuck Louis' thighs even harder. Louis knows that by the time this is over, his thighs will be a mess of red, sensitive skin and dried come. He strokes himself faster at the thought. 

"C-close, Lou. Fuck," Harry says, trying his best to slow himself down in order to prolong the feeling, but is ultimately unable to. Louis' thighs are just too good, he thinks. He can never control himself. 

Louis is close as well, the feeling of his hand around his cock added with the feeling of Harry's massive cock wrecking his thighs is getting to be too much. A little too good. (But he would do this for hours, if he could.) He uses the little bit of strength he has left to tighten his thighs even more, and it hurts, a bit, but he fucking loves it. 

Harry loves it as well, apparently, because all of a sudden his stomach is tightening up and his head is thrown back, and fuck. He's coming, hard. He comes all over the inside of Louis' thighs, and the feeling of it makes Louis come, as well. 

"Oh fuck... fuck," Harry breathes out, after he's able to catch his breath. He doesn't think he's ever come that hard, not even after that time he spent the whole night fucking Louis' throat (and that night was _amazing ___.)

Louis gulps, nodding his head. "Yeah... fuck." He can't really think straight, at the moment. His thoughts are jumbled up and his words are coming out slow and smooth like honey. He trusted Harry with his body completely, and it has definitely paid off. 

~ 

A little while later, after Harry has cleaned up both himself and Louis (who was still too out of it to really do anything besides sigh and grin and whimper when his thighs were cleaned), both boys are in bed. They have crisp new sheets, and they're snuggled up together in their big duvet. Harry's the big spoon, because Louis always loves to be coddled after they're intimate with each other, and Harry is always more than willing to oblige. 

"I love you, Lou. And your thighs... They're really perfect, babe," Harry whispers into Louis' neck, like it's a secret that can't escape. 

"I love you too, baby." Louis, for the first time ever, believes that his thighs are not some unfortunate mistake God made. He feels beautiful, and loved, and he falls asleep with a soft grin on his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this!! leave a comment and kudos if you did!


End file.
